"Ron you know full well Harry and I were brought up by Muggles!" said Hermione. "We didn’t hear stories like that when we were little, we heard ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarves’ and ‘Cinderella.’"

"What’s that, an illness?" asked Ron.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chapter 7

In the final book of the Harry Potter series, Dumbledore has left in his will a volume of children’s fairy tales from the Wizarding world to Hermione, who would be unfamiliar with them having come from a Muggle family. She needed to know these stories to understand the larger Wizarding Culture and to find the Deathly Hallows.

We are experiencing something like that, working with a Chinese student who is reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone in English. I knew that there would be times when the book would be difficult because JK Rowling manipulates the English language (and Latin) in the series, like with some of the character’s names and the Mirror of Erised. But there were some things I didn’t anticipate.

One of Myles’ Changping friends has aspirations to attend school in Europe in a few years. He has some special talents, and there is a program for his specialty in a European country that is likewise interested in his applying to it. The language of instruction for the international participants is English, not the home language of the country. His language capability in English is better than most Chinese kids his age, mostly because his parents’ have looked for every opportunity for him to improve his English, sometimes at the expense of his Mandarin.

For the last year, he has come over to our house a few times a week for some extra English practice. One thing that I have considered might help him (inspired by our experience with the Brave Writer program) is listening to books while reading along so he can match what is spoken to how it is written. We follow up with copywork in addition. He’s been listening to Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone on a CD, and sometimes I re-read parts of it to him. Occasionally, when I know the movie matches very closely to the book, we watch a scene from the film in addition to the listening and reading. Even though we have all these tools to help guide our friend through the book, I still sometimes have to translate some of the vocabulary

A Western child, steeped in Grimm’s fairy tales and the like, probably understands the world Harry Potter is thrust into because the basic vocabulary of Rowling’s magical realm is the same that he or she has heard so many times before. Harry’s supply list for his first year includes equipment like a cauldron and a wand, and notes a prohibition on broomsticks for the youngest students. Most Anglophone readers, I’m sure, are able to visualize what these things might look like because we’ve already heard so many other stories where witches and wizards have cauldrons and wands, and travel by flying broomsticks. For Myles’ friend, on the other hand, he needed a lot more explanation about what these things were.

I started translating some of these words using the Pleco app on my phone. Cauldron was a particular problem, especially since Mandarin has many words for cauldron, and Chinese witches apparently don’t use them. Fortunately, one of the databases that Pleco uses give a clue to the Chinese word that is appropriate for the vessel in which a magical person might brew a potion.

I may have failed him in not really delving into the names that Rowling chose for people and places, like Draco Malfoy or Diagon Alley. This is a delicious part of the whole series, a lovely treat. However, our friend’s attention waned when I delved into it, so I switched gears. The primary goal was for him and his parents was for him to get through the book, understand it on some level, and realize some improvement in his English.

One thing that I started to wonder, though, through this exercise, is that if Chinese students wouldn’t be further ahead studying Latin, rather than English, as their first second language. The downside would be that, of course, there are no children’s shows in Latin, not many books in Latin, or any opportunities to practice on strangers in the park. However, the way in which English is most frequently taught and tested in China, it doesn’t lend itself to conversation ability. If they are only going to emphasize reading and writing, maybe learning Latin is the way to go in the earlier years. It would lay a good groundwork to understanding a wider variety of European languages. They could differentiate later into something more modern and useful, but at least Latin would provide the base code.

Our friend happily finished Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. I looked through Brave Writer’s archives and found Encylcopedia Brown Boy Detective. I think this will be a good next lesson for him since he has devoured all of Myles’ books in this series already. It will be most useful for the grammar lessons, without the added work of working through the background knowledge most Western children would bring to the reading.

This post first appeared on Jennifer Ambrose’s site on February, 2014.

Jennifer Ambrose hails from Western Pennsylvania and misses it terribly. She still maintains an intense devotion to the Pittsburgh Steelers. She has lived in China since 2006 and is currently an at-home mother. With her husband Randy and children Myles and Brigid, she resides outside the Sixth Ring Road in Changping, northwest of Beijing.

Photo courtesy of Anders.Bachmann (flickr)

Somehow when our daughters were growing up, discussing the future had always implied the years ahead for all of us together. We moved to China together for one more adventure ‘en famille – before the girls go off to university’ but somehow the reality of what would happen afterwards was never in my picture.

It was only when our eldest daughter started her third year of high school, that it suddenly dawned on me that the she might actually be leaving soon, that the college applications process meant that she would be moving on at the end of high school and that she would be going to university – far away – and that daughter number two would follow three years later…The realization that our life as a foursome was not meant to last forever came as a shock…It was also probably around that time that I heard the term ‘empty nester’ for the first time.

Where I grew up, going to university meant that you could still live at home, a short daily commute being all it took to pursue your tertiary education. Nothing had prepared me for the separation across oceans that my family was about to experience.

During that last year of being a foursome I became more and more aware of the looming separation. I had met other women who had gone through this separation and I could see it wasn’t going to be easy. The smallest, silliest things would trigger a flow of emotions – and my daughter hadn’t even left home yet! I would become nostalgic hearing a favorite family song, a tune on the piano and I would get teary opening the fridge and realizing that she would no longer be eating my food – now I get the full meaning of: ‘Food is the language of love’.

Getting together with other mothers was very helpful in realizing that I was not the only one going through this separation anxiety. At the beginning of their life we had had nine months to get used to welcoming our children into our heart, now we had to get used to ‘letting them go’ but it hurt.

In that last year of ‘life as we knew it’, my husband and I had hoped to catch some more family time. However we soon found out that what little time was left between studying, college applications and essay writing, sports and exams, had to be shared with “The friends that I will never see again..”. We had been relegated to the category of “You will always be around..” and we were no longer a priority – but that was ok, we had been warned by the school counsellors!

In our desire to equip our children for the step ahead and for living away from home, we fell into the trap of wanting to make sure we had covered all the topics (banking, cooking, health, boys..) and went on an slight overload of unsolicited advice, of “Don’t forget about this and don’t forget to do that!”. This, coupled with the usual stress of transition, meant that on more than one occasions we were all ready to see each other’s back. I see this as Mother Nature’s way to help us part. That is what children do. They don’t belong to us, they must push us back in order to leave the nest and it is our job to let them go and support their wish for independence.

When you have lived together as a family for 20 years, it is hard to imagine life without children. With each child leaving, the umbilical cord is stretched out and cut for a second time. I felt the pain of separation in my gut and I grieved for several days after each departure. I had anticipated the sense of loss and had filled my diary before hand with meetings and people to see. My lovely friends recognized my dark sunglasses as camouflage for my tears. Research shows that children leaving home is an often overlooked highly stressful time in life and that it is important to prepare for it. In women, when it is coupled with menopause it can lead to depression. Men are often emotionally unprepared and can experience feelings of lost opportunities when their children leave home.

I consider myself fortunate to have been able to stay home to look after our girls but it meant that now I had to learn to look at life through my own eyes, not those of my children and I had to redefine my purpose, find new goals, set up a new routine, make friends outside the school community. We had been warned about staring at the deserted kitchen table and the empty bedrooms, so we moved house.

My husband and I have entered a new phase of our life that doesn’t deserve the negative and sad sense of loss that the label empty-nester implies. So instead, in a more positive approach, I prefer to say that we have become ‘Second Honeymooners’.

Now we can make last minute plans that no longer involve finding a babysitter or preparing dinner for the children, we can get together with friends and go out on dates just like we did before the children came along. Once a mother, always a mother. The fridge is less full, but the memories are plenty.

With a positive attitude we can open the door to new opportunities. Perhaps there is an old dream to revive, a language to brush up, some friends to visit around the world, a bucket list to tick off, a tempting new job. The children will be happy venturing out into their world knowing that their parents are alright and that home will always be home for them wherever it may be. Both girls have left and we miss them terribly, but now we are making plans for our next adventure ‘à deux’ and that is very exciting.

If you are finding coping with this new reality without children challenging or even depressing, don’t sit home alone. Google ‘empty nest’ and you should find a good number of helpful resources.

Read more on ParentingEastWest.com

This post first appeared on Lyliane Stewart’s website ParentingEastWest on January 28, 2014.

Lyliane Stewart is a teacher, a positive discipline parent educator and a mother of two young adults. Originally from Switzerland, she lives with her husband in Beijing where she has been very active with the school community over the years.  Her personal experience of living internationally in a cross-cultural family has given her a good understanding of the various challenges encountered by multi-cultural, multi-lingual expatriate families. Passionate about psychology and education, she founded Parenting East West to offer support to families around the world. Lyliane believes that by gaining a better understanding of ourselves, and of human relationships in general, we become better equipped for parenting.  She offers weekly interactive parenting classes through which she introduces positive parenting tools and strategies.

The Mums2B group she started meets in Sanlitun weekly and welcomes new expectant parents.To get in touch, send a message to: parentingeastwest@gmail.com

Photo by Lyliane Stewart.

This post is part of the beijingkids’ parenting guest blogger program. If you want to be part of this program send an email to editor@beijing-kids.com.

I am pregnant with a second child here in Beijing, China. In contrast, I am surrounded by a country of people who, if they have had a child at all, have only ever had one. This is the land of the “one child policy” and, since 1979, families have been relegated to this population control method. As a result, I’m constantly amazed by the variety of responses that my second pregnancy receives.

Without a doubt, the most common response is positive. People are congratulatory and often slightly envious. I overheard a woman speaking about me when I attended a wedding this past weekend. I’m sure she assumed I couldn’t understand her—a familiar assumption—but I directly heard her say, “I’d love to have a second child. Look at her over there with a baby at her feet and another on the way. It would be so nice to have two little ones running around. How joyous!” I smiled at her from across the crowd and she smiled back.

Secondly, people are shocked by the size of me. I’m not that big, I think, but a second pregnancy shows its bump more quickly and Chinese women don’t seem to know that. I have been asked several times if I’m pregnant with twins! My mother-in-law even told me that my belly was too large and I must be eating too much, which is ridiculous considering I’m grateful to not be enlarging so quickly in other bodily regions like I did when I was pregnant the first time!

I just laughed at her, reminding her that the abdomen’s muscles are looser during the second pregnancy since they’ve already experienced the stretching. “This makes the belly more prominent, more quickly” I explained. As is her style, she ignored me by brushing the topic aside, but I know she heard my words and won’t question my belly’s “abnormal” size again.

I have also come to expect a look of shock and horror when I pick up Echo in public. She’s only twenty-one months old and wants to be picked up by Mommy regularly, as does any toddler. She’s even learned to say “up” (with a very pronounced and super cute “p”) and so it would be even harder to resist granting her that request even if I wanted to.

Yesterday, while walking to buy fruit, Echo wanted “up, up, up!” when we were about to leave and I scooped her into my arms before grabbing the bag of fruit off the scale. “Be careful!” the fruit seller chirped, worry raising her pitch. “You’ll crush the baby in your stomach!” Then she directed the next comment to Echo, in that typical passive aggressive Chinese way of giving instructions: “Mommy can’t carry you anymore because she has to protect your little brother or sister!” I quickly intervened, “No, no, it’s no problem, the baby in my belly is just fine!” I said, putting a protective hand on Echo’s back and whispering to her in English, “Mommy can hold you, sweetheart, don’t worry.” I assured the woman that I was not crushing the baby and that women hold their children while pregnant all the time in other countries. She just shook her head. I am already long familiar with the “foreigners-are-so-foolhardy” expression on the faces of locals here.

Then there’s the baby carrier. Related to picking Echo up in my arms, I strap Echo against my body when I need my hands free. What a great invention they are! Only recently have I started to occasionally find her a bit heavy against my bump if the straps aren’t well-adjusted, but it still works reasonably well. When she’s in the carrier, those who are aware of my pregnancy such as some neighbours, vendors in my complex, even the guard at our complex’s gate are horrified to see me place Echo’s weight directly on my belly. They’re convinced I’m endangering the life of this baby in here. Of course, I’m not and the baby is fine. No amount of reassurance will stop them from barking at me regularly. Public scolding dressed in the disguise of “advice giving” is also a common feature in China, especially regarding pregnancy or babies.

Lately, I’ve taken to switching the carrier around so she’s on my back, particularly if Guo Jian or my MIL can help me strap her in before I leave. It works just as well and the bonus is a reduction in the “friendly barking.” She seems to like the new arrangement too and often cuddles her head against my shoulder blades or reaches her little hands around my ribcage like she’s holding on during a fun ride. (I like the feeling of being hugged from behind, too!)

I believe all this trepidation goes back to the one-child policy and how it has resulted in some extreme behaviours regarding child health and safety. There are some glaring exceptions—like the fact that car seats are still not mandatory here—but for the most part Chinese children are hovered over by four grandparents and two parents, like royalty. They must be monitored at every moment for fear that anything will happen to them. After all, they are the only branch on this generation’s family tree, which somehow implies they’re all the more breakable!? <sarcasm intended!>

Thus, when women here are pregnant, they often immediately resign from their jobs (not all of them, of course, but many do if they have the means!), they rarely do anything that requires any “strenuous” movement such as cycling or buying “heavy” fruit or even carrying a guitar on their shoulder en route to a concert—oh the horror! “And you’re still performing? You’re so tough and strong! Chinese women don’t have the same physical stamina and constitution that you foreign women have!” Of course, that’s just not true. When your culture supports you barely lifting a finger during your child’s gestation, it’s no wonder that it’s common for Chinese women are reduced to fragile weaklings during their pregnancies.

So, with this second pregnancy well into its sixth month (exactly 29 weeks today), I’m eager to return to Canada at the end of the month—a place in which pregnant women with other children at their feet are not seen as delinquent for their large bellies or tendency to pick up their toddlers.

There is one assumption people here make that seems to push my buttons the most. It’s the notion that two children are far too much work and a mother simply cannot handle two children without “outside help.” My mother-in-law referenced this just last week when she said that she’d have to have Echo much more often when the new baby arrived because there’s no way I can handle two children on my own.

I turned to her, startled. “Do you mean to say that you think that I can only be the mother to one child at a time?” I didn’t wait for her answer. “These kids need each other just as much as they need their mother.” I said firmly. (Maybe too firmly.) “I won’t be sending Echo to you more often unless it’s a special circumstance, otherwise Echo will get jealous of her little brother and miss her Mommy too much!” I reminded her that she’s part of a generation of women who never had the chance to test their abilities to “handle” two children, but that I am from a culture in which women are often the mothers to multiple kids.

“Trust me. It can be done.” I said. “I have the required skills.”

While I greatly appreciate my mother-in-law’s assistance with child care and will certainly continue the arrangement we have in which our daughter (and soon our son) will spend time with her “nainai” almost daily, I resent the implication that I will be incapable of simultaneously mothering two kids. “Ember Transparency: Lesson #1”: If you want me to prove my worth, just openly question my competence!

But, I know her well enough to know that she wasn’t manipulatively trying to generate my maternal bravado; she simply made an erroneous assumption that stems from a generation ignorant of multiple birth families. It’s not her fault.

So, I hereby acknowledge that I probably over-reacted. Passive aggressive wording is irritating at the best of times, but it’s as much her personality as it is “The Chinese Way.” I have no doubt that my MIL means well and I also know there was some truth to what she was saying: two babies will mean more work. That goes without question.

We’re the most sensitive to the things we fear the most. Part of me is anxious, I must admit. I wonder how I’ll adjust to the addition of another set of baby needs. I’m concerned that I’ll be more tired and/or less functional–worse, less patient with Echo–when I’m back to an irregular newborn’s sleep schedule. But, I also know that these fears are normal. What’s more, I am certain I can handle it. I can handle anything. Once you’ve had one, you can have two. I have a manual!

I’ve tried not to take these things personally and can usually can step back for long enough to succeed.

When I can’t, I write a blog about it!

(And then I feel better.)

This post first appeared on Ember Swift’s website on October 9.

Photo courtesy of Ember Swift

Ember Swift is a Canadian songwriter, musician, writer, cyclist, green thumb, cupcake fan and proud mom living in Beijing with her husband, Guo Jian, and their daughter Echo (born January 2012). They are expecting a second child at the end of 2013. Ember writes professionally for several print and online publications (including beijingkids), as well as three blogs through her own site: www.emberswift.com. She is also an internationally touring musician and performs regularly in China with her all-girl local band. She has released 11 independent musical albums over the years but, these days, prefers to be with her family rather than on the road touring. She continues to release her music online and hopes to have completed her memoir project by the end of 2014.